The Heathens are Among Us

Yes yes yes, I told you about the music or something. I do not know.

I started a band. It is called The Damn Yankees. I hope that name isn't taken, it probably is.

We are playing songs that I write. People really like it.

This girl Rebecca is the violin player. She has played in many bands, and she has played live many many times. She is my armor and my experienced advisor when it comes to doing this.

We've gotten together twice. Twice for about two hours at a time creating a sound. Then Rebecca drags me and Miles to a bar to play some of my songs.

We have practiced twice, fuck.

But I was like fuck it, let's do this shit.

We go to this bar where another band is playing that rebecca is going to join. This is Tennessee, they are playing country music and bluegrass. When Rebecca is playing these bands, her violin transforms into a fiddle.

Everyone is drinking and listening to southern music. I am telling Miles this is crazy, we are totally not ready. We are not southern.

She asks the band if we can play a song between sets. Dude says no. Then he says yes.

I need a fucking beer.

Leader of the band comes up to me. You guys want to play a song?

Uh, yeah, sure.

Well let's go.

Um, can we wait a little bit until later?

I am waiting for that beer. I want to eat a beer first before I do this. I am trying not to be nervous.

I am getting old though, and more set in my ways, so getting nervous would just be a stupid idea. I controlled it.

No, he says, I cannot wait.

We had just got there.

Shit should have effected me, but it wasn't, because secretly, deep down inside, I knew we had good music, though it was unlike anything anybody has ever heard before.

I am keeping this a secret, because I believe it's true, but I don't know if it was true.

It was true to me, and that's important.

So we get up on stage. I am setting myself up to be comfortable. I drag a chair on stage, people are setting up equipment around me. I have never played my songs live before. Well I did once, years ago, and it went horribly.

I am trying to prevent the horribleness from happening again.

I shook and trembled like crazy last time I did this.

I am trying not to let this happen to me again.

I don't know what I am doing though, with setting up equipment and shit. I am just there to play my guitar and have people listen to our sound. I am going to sing my original songs to these people. Whooo.

They are telling me to check the mike. I am so cool, I put my mouth to the mike and I'm like Check.

Oh yeah, I am a fucking pro.

They are miking my guitar, I am sitting in a chair and people are moving and doing things all around me.

I start playing the riff of one of my songs. I am listening to the chatter. I am comforted by my playing.

I am laughing and cracking jokes trying not to let the nervousness overwhelm me.

Miles has his jembae, this big bongo drum or whatever. He has played it once. He is wearing funny pants, and it is about one in the morning and he has class in the morning. He is facing away from the people, so his drum hole (hahahahhaha) is aimed at them. He is not the focus of this. He is getting away scot free.

I am the musical leader of this band, so they are following my lead. I know nothing about playing live. I know absolutely nothing about anything. I know some facts, maybe. Whatever.

I start playing a song. There are several moments where it is after fucking around, before singing, and we are officially playing a song live for the first time after two practice sessions. Here we go.

My intestines start flushing. My schizophrenia pops up. I realize for one brief moment that I could go completely schizophrenic and ruin this all and we will never be a band.

I get this under control.

I start singing. I am weak sounding. I can barely hear my guitar. This first song apparently turns out to be our best one, later on.

They say play more.

I play another song. We were supposed to play one.

I figure out how to sing into the mike and I start singing with a purpose.

Finish second song. They say play more.

I play a third song. I don't have many. I wrote all these in the span of twenty minutes altogether so we'd have something to jam to, and I could practice my singing.

We finish. I am done.

We step off stage.

Here is what happened:

People complimented me on my music.

Also, there was a guy there who just happened to used to be an independent label music producer for six years, and still had contacts with a radio station in Austin Texas, and other music contacts.

He is telling me that we were really fucking good. He would consider us easily in the top tier of independent bands that he has come across. That we are everything important. That our sound was the most interesting sound he has ever heard out of cookeville, and trust me that that means a lot he says. That our first song he could easily get played on the radio. We could play at SXSW.

Crazy shit. I wanted to call the band Strange Days, but that was apparently already taken.

My secret is out. The revolution proceeds forward. You knew about it first.

Oh yeah, if me and Lars ever get around to it, we are going to make a banner and hang it on campus.

The banner will say "Attention! This is a banner."

Another part of the revolution of the mind.

Stay with me.